


"Leather"

by MisterStalker



Series: The Leader of the Pack [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub Undertones, Eskel makes an excellent brat tamer, Good old fashioned over the knee spanking, Kink dynamics without knowing or understanding kink vocabulary, Lambert is an incorrigible brat, Lambert violates Eskel's boundaries, M/M, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking, safe words, subs hold more power than you'd think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterStalker/pseuds/MisterStalker
Summary: Lambert returns to Kaer Morhen to find out if he and Eskel still have the same power exchange dynamic to their relationship. The rules are the same, leading to Lambert being on the receiving end of another proper spanking- But Eskel is forced to to stop and educate Lambert on the importance of the rules and the boundaries.
Relationships: Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: The Leader of the Pack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101431
Comments: 20
Kudos: 45





	1. A Long Overdue Spanking

Eskel couldn't contain his smile when staring down at Lambert riding up to Kaer Morhen on his horse, strong and handsome as ever. It didn't matter that Lambert was anything but a chivalrous knight and he himself was far from resembling a fair maiden in a tower. The image they formed together in his mind was uniquely beautiful.

"You're early this year, I almost didn't notice the smoke from your campsite at the foothills!" Eskel called down, "But after I noticed you were on your way I thought you would arrive at the gates before noon today. Did something happen?"

Lambert shouted back up, "I only came back early for winter because of an accident with a fork tail. I've been riding slowly, taking the easy paths."

Eskel straightened up, showing his concern, but Lambert interrupted him, "I managed to not get skewered by the tail, but it got me pretty deep." He patted his ribs tenderly.

For a hot piece of meat, Lambert was lucky this was the first time anyone ever stuck a fork into him. But Eskel wouldn't risk Lambert turning his horse around and leaving by actually saying that out loud.

Instead he announced, "I'll open the portcullis and help you in." He cranked the wheels and felt the old wooden columns dislodge from their notches lift up.

He met the younger witcher in the courtyard and opened his mouth to speak but Lambert spoke first again, "You put on weight?"

Eskel stopped mid-step and his expression fell, "I haven't been chasing draconids up and down hills all year." He explained.

Lambert snorted, "Out of shape too?" Eskel then noticed the small curve in the corner of his mouth and the mischief in his eyes. He looked like an amused cat playing with his food, and Eskel wondered if he was truly the one in control between them .

Eskel followed the other's lead after reading what Lambert wanted from him, "No, I can still tan your hide and put you in your place as easily as I did before you left." He nodded toward the keep, "Let's go, I'd say you're overdue for a spanking."

"I don't know, Eskel, maybe I ought to be giving you a thrashing for getting complacent." Lambert sneered. 

"You're really asking for it, Lambert. Are you going to be sorry when you get it?" Eskel crossed his arms, feeling large and powerful even while looking up at the other on his mount.

"I'm almost done." Lambert said through a genuine smile, breaking character for a brief moment.

"I swear, Lambert. If you're not off that horse by the time I count to 10, when I'm done spanking you with my right hand I'm going to turn you around on my lap and spank you all over again with my other hand!"

"If you outgrew your griffin armour, can I have it?" Lambert barked with delight.

"I'm counting." Eskel warned, unable to hide the amused curve of the unscarred corner of his mouth.

"I know." And Lambert stared into Eskel's eyes. Wordless seconds passed by and then he leapt down with all of the grace of a cat, landing on his feet at the last second. "Nine."

Eskel pulled the other into his arms for a warm embrace, feeling how the others chest rose and fell against his in smooth deep breaths. "You're all right?"

"Yeah. Maybe not enough to take a contract, but I'm alright. Really." Lambert assured. The wound was healed enough for sign-based contracts, or simple tracking jobs. But the prospect of his wound allowing him to come home early was an opportunity he couldn't resist. Eskel wanted his honesty, but that was too deep. He'd die rather than admit how quickly he ha'd come hurrying back to the keep to be at the pack leader's side.

"Good. Because I'm handling your behaviour now and letting you sort out your gear after that." Eskel rested a heavy hand on Lambert's nape, steering him through the courtyard to the grand hall.

Lambert felt his heart racing. The most simple surface layer of his mind knew that this was going to hurt. That basic instinct wanted to make Eskel fight him to land any blow.

But a deeper consciousness in him gladly accepted the pain as the very affordable cost of what he really wanted.

He wanted to enter, armoured only with his prickly demeanor, his caustic humour, his constant simmering rage. He wanted to let Eskel beat his way through the layers of that armour until there was nothing left for Lambert to hide himself behind, leaving him vulnerable all the way down to his core.

Eskel released him and pulled a chair away from the wall for himself as he directed, "Take off your armour and lower your trousers."

Lambert met Eskel's eyes, proudly and defiantly, refusing to balk or shyly look away as he removed his armour and pushed his trousers past his muscular hips and rear.

Eskel barely waited for him to be finished before wrapping an arm around his hips and dragging him down.

Eskel was seated comfortably on the sturdy oak wood chair. One of his soft, muscular thighs pressed into Lambert's firm stomach below his navel. The smaller man reached forward and splayed his open palms on the cold floor beneath him to steady himself, pleased to find no pressure at all placed on the tender area of his healing wound.

The position made Lambert's arse the most elevated part of his body, raised up as if on display for Eskel. The thought of it made him squirm and he stretched his legs out, flattening the curve of his arse.

Eskel lifted his other leg and placed it across both of Lambert's before settling in comfortably again, keeping him well and truly bent over one of the pack-leader's knees.

"You remember your word?" Eskel asked, pressing his palm to naked flesh in preparation.

"Yeah. I don't need it." Lambert stated, staring down at the medallion hanging towards the floor beneath him.

The first slaps were sharper than he remembered. He had plenty of time to forget the feeling of Eskel's hand, and the force behind it.

He had let himself dull the memory of the pain and believed that a spanking from Eskel was nothing more than a persistent warmth on his backside.

Lambert had also told himself that he wasn't going to cry this time. He'd endured far worse pain without being reduced to the state Eskel had put him in during his last spanking. The witcher had been nearly split open by a fork tail and barely felt the salt of tears begin to prick his eyes before blinking the reflex away.

Eskel took his time in warming Lambert up. He let his hand linger on the upturned rear with each smack so that he could enjoy the way the naked muscular ass filled his palm.

He had been looking forward to this too long to rush through it. He wanted to draw this out and enjoy every second of it that he had been anticipating throughout the summer and autumn.

Eskel wound his arm a little more tightly around Lambert's hips, reminding the other of his strength. He was as strong as he ever was, certainly strong enough to keep the resilient younger witcher in line. Pleased with his grip, and pleased to have the other in his arm again, he lifted his hand higher to spank the upturned rear harder.

Lambert flinched under the harder blows and twisted one of his legs in the confines of his position. He found the weight of Eskel's thigh pinning down his legs to be unyielding, and the blows to his backside did not slow down or miss the target.

He kicked in response to the next blow, and when there was no reaction, Lambert released the command he'd given himself to be still. Eskel was taking control over that, leaving the younger man free to squirm and react without being able to avoid the next firm swat.

Lambert felt the need to cry building up like a growing pressure deep in his chest. He tried to hold it back, if only because he had told himself he would. But eventually, as the warmth covering his rear turned into heat, having something to prove to himself was less important.

Lambert closed his eyes and hung his head and let the pin pricks of tears begin to sting, and then let the wetness build behind his lids.

The next slap hesitated, then failed to come at all. Eskel's hand remained suspended in the air, his eyes fixated on the other, watching him.

Lambert's hands began to clench, his nails scraping on the floor as his defenses quickly rose up, preparing him for whatever the other could say.

Eskel said nothing at all, instead waiting a full second for Lambert and the word he'd chosen. When Lambert did not so much as open his mouth to take a breath to speak, he continued the spanking again with full force.

Lambert finally let go and let the tears break free, splashing the ground between his palms. The penetrating sting in each slap held his full attention. It was impossible to let his mind wander even as far as the courtyard and what he had said to get himself here. The bitterness and anger that followed him on the path were miles away and couldn't touch him now. Whatever he had to prove to himself by refusing to cry was long forgotten.

Eskel was pleasantly lost in the view and the tactile sensations of a strong body entangled with his own, when Lambert choked in a pained, strangled, "Ow."

Eskel smirked, amused by the unexpected softness, how overwhelmed Lambert must have been to express his pain suddenly with a word, instead of his usual gasps and cries.

He continued to slap Lambert's ass hard, but couldn't find the angle to make him squirm in the same way again, or get any other words out of him. Lambert was holding onto his leg with a grip like a vice, bracing himself and refusing to move no matter how Eskel thrashed him, trying to bring the other back to his rather lively previous state.

His whimpering and shuddering breaths became wet and raspy but Eskel thought nothing of it until he smelled blood. Then he froze.

The sexual excitement of the situation was gone and he felt his pupils pin into needle-like slits.

He pulled Lambert to his feet and demanded, "Where are you bleeding?" But he already knew from the way the scent of blood mixed with breath. The healed edges of the wound from the fork tail were more delicate than he thought, and Lambert's lung had torn open due to the squirming.

"Your word, Lambert!" Eskel shouted at the tear-streaked, half-dressed man before him.

"I won't say it!" Came the stubborn reply, blood speckling his bottom lip.

"You have to say it!" Eskel was louder now.

"I don't need it!" He was unyielding in his stubbornness.

"This is why you have that word! I agreed to spank you, Lambert, nothing more! I never agreed to make you choke on your own blood!" Eskel continued with his raised voice.

Lambert looked hurt and Eskel quickly schooled his tone before damage could be done. He took a deep breath and forced himself to follow their routine, "I'm going to the garden for a few fresh sprigs of celandine... Clean yourself up, and I'll meet you in the study when you're ready."

He tried to leave with the same confidence he always left but it was impossibly hard to fight the pull to be at Lambert's side and worry over him.

Eskel knew that if he stayed and continued to take in the smell of the blood he would be unable to control the adrenaline released into his blood. He knew he would start talking too loudly, he knew his muscles would be flexing and preparing for him to fight.

What he had done to Lambert already was bad enough and he would struggle to forgive himself for it. But if he yelled at Lambert now and postured himself with imposing muscles and bulging veins after thrashing him to the point of tears… Eskel would not be able to forgive himself for thet and would not allow himself to ever touch Lambert again.

And Eskel so so desperately wanted to touch Lambert again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert and Eskel have an important discussion, forcing Lambert to understand why things went too far and it isn't just a matter of him being strong enough to endure it.
> 
> Thank you to my friends; Hound, Cat, Sloth, Grass, and Dagger, for your continuing support of my obsessions.

The fresh, herbal scented air of Kaer Morhen's garden brought relief to the immense distress Eskel constricting his chest.

If disciplining Lambert had only been a matter of his own duty as the leader to keep his guild members in-line then he wouldn't be in _this_ state now. His mind would have properly been in the context of aggression, and although the smell of blood would have been a surprise, he could have reacted with some degree of composure.

However Eskel's head was far from the mindset of assault. His thoughts had been deeply rooted in his appreciation of Lambert's body and his personal excitement. He had been deep in a pleasant drugged-like headspace and the smell of blood was too jarring, too fundamentally _wrong_ for what he was feeling.

He reached into the garden and plucked the blooming celandine, finding the smell of the nectar calming and strongly connected with relief from pain.

He gathered herbs for healing, some for pain relief, and some for a strong tea to treat himself when the talk was over. He brought the collection to the study then hesitated in the doorway as he took in the state of the room.

The study was usually kept just barely tidy enough that his predecessor would not rise up from the grave and see fit to thrash him for the mess. Eskel hated to clean and there was plenty of other more essential work to be done when maintaining the aging fortress. However, in this moment the books were all on the shelves, the scrolls were away in drawers, and the polished bronze and glass distilling supplies were neatly assembled on the table.

Lambert was watching him as he carefully wiped the inside of a beaker with a soft cloth. As soon as Eskel saw him and smelled blood again his expression changed from wonder to concern. Lambert interrupted his thoughts and explained "I'm only using my arm on my good side, and I'm moving around at a snail's pace. I'm absolutely fine. I just hate standing around and doing nothing while I wait."

Eskel's eyes swept over the surfaces again, noticing they'd also been dusted. "You didn't need to wait here. You could have gone anywhere, I would have waited until you were ready to come here and talk."

Lambert shrugged, "Well… I thought you might need help setting up the distilling system. You're planning to make a vapor instead of a salve, right?"

At once the older witcher remembered this soft side of Lambert. After a thorough spanking, after being absolutely wrung out, the man was soft and downright submissive.

Eskel shrugged, "I could have figured it out eventually, with the books, if you needed more time to yourself." He was glad that Lambert was showing this side of himself if it meant the younger witcher got what he needed from his spanking, if he was free to let go of the harder parts of himself that he didn't like. 

Then, on the coattails of satisfaction, a cold fear rushed in that Lambert was only doing this because he was beaten into fear; not serving but instead cowering to the will of others. Eskel was gripped by that thought and struggling through his part in it, even as Lambert gently gathered the herbs from his hand to process them.

"There's a monster in me that likes to hurt you." Eskel warned. He wanted to believe it was literal monster blood in his veins that made his heartbeat quicken from the gasps and mewls he wrought from Lambert. (But if he thought hard about it, he would remember similar dark fantasies from before he ever endured the Trial of the Grasses and he would know that this was not a mutation, it was his own self.)

"Yeah, I got a monster in me too, one that likes to hurt everyone around me… and me too sometimes." Lambert said almost casually until just before the end, when his voice dropped as if to admit something shameful. He refused to meet the other's imploring gaze as he continued speaking, "I like that the monster in you knows how to keep the monster in me in check. It's nice to have that peace." 

Lambert processed the celandine with calm efficiency and mixed it with bonding agents and enhancements before starting a fire under the round bottom flask. When it started to bubble the wounded man inhaled the vapor and held it in his lungs for a long moment.

With a sudden rush as he felt the sides of his injury stitching back together inside himself, Lambert spoke, "All right, I know my limits, and I know when I'm fine. This is not a serious wound, and we do _not_ baby each other when it comes to the knocks and scrapes we get on the path. So what else is there to talk about?"

Eskel frowned as the other tried to dominate the talk and sum it all up quickly, before things could get too close and vulnerable. He made it immediately clear why he needed to talk about it, explaining, "Letting things go that far was not okay. It was supposed to be a spanking, _just_ a spanking."

"All right," Lambert stated, meeting Eskel's eyes deliberately and not fighting him.

Eskel frowned, reading in the other's expression that he was going to agree just to be easy and get out of the conversation while stubbornly refusing to internalize anything. "It wasn't fair to do that to me."

"All right," Lambert answered again.

"Do you understand why?" Eskel raised a brow. Lambert furrowed his brows, taken off guard as his involvement shifted and he was now expected to verbalize the perspective of the other man. Eskel nodded to the flask, "Take a deep breath and think about it. You have until you exhale to give your answer."

Lambert obediently took a deep breath and braced himself against the table with his hands. Eskel could see his mind hard at work and knew that he could have stood in front of the stubborn witcher lecturing him for hours and never get more than an impassive agreement. But challenging him to riddle out the problem forced Lambert to reach to see Eskel's perspective and understand it. When he breathed out Eskel could smell the nectar but not blood, "Well?"

Reluctantly, Lambert replied, if only to prove he knew the answer, "You said you'd only use your open hand, and only on my backside." The other nodded encouragement, and Lambert continued, knowing he had come to this conclusion because it had made sense, "I made you do something you didn't agree to."

Eskel nodded, "That's right."

"I'm sorry." Lambert said, for the first time that either man could remember.

"Thank you." Eskel accepted, shocked to have an apology but careful not to put too much attention on it. "It was also unfair to you. Do you understand why?" Lambert's brows furrowed in confusion and unwillingness to accept the words, and Eskel sighed, "Take another deep breath and think about it. Think hard, Lambert. You're the smartest man I know, but you're not used to thinking like this."

Lambert took a deep breath and his jaw set sternly in deep thought, determined to earn that title of being the smartest man Eskel knew. He held his breath for a long time, the corners of his face started to flush with colour when Eskel insisted, "Exhale, now."

The younger man exhaled and quickly caught his breath to speak, "Give me a moment… just… hold on." He inhaled another lung full of the vapour and was quiet with his thoughts for only a few seconds, then he exhaled the vapour as he spoke, "Reopening an injury in my chest wasn't a fair punishment for my behaviour."

"That's right." Eskel smiled, impressed that Lambert came to the conclusion he wanted, "I was worried for a moment that _that_ one was too tough for you."

"I just needed another second! I couldn't hold my breath as long as I could the first time." Lambert huffed.

"But do you agree?" Eskel refocused on the answer he had received.

"...Yes." Lambert reluctantly admitted. It was almost painful to do so.

"Good. Because you were being a jerk, and deserved to get your backside tanned, but I didn't want you to suffer." Eskel watched the other closely as he finally explained something in return.

Lambert shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He never regretted his actions, and no matter how authority figures tried to impose remorse, he refused to accept it. Until now, when it seemed so natural to just say the words again, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you… Do you know what you're apologizing for?" Lambert nodded sternly. Eskel coaxed him, "Explain it to me."

"For punishing myself rather than letting you punish me." Lambert answered.

Eskel nodded, then studied the others face, watching as words bubbled up and died behind tightly closed lips. "You want to argue? Let's hear it."

He looked wary of a trap, but gave in and shared his thought, "I could have handled it fine. If you wanted to really give me a beating, I'd be fine." He waited for Eskel to say something and when he didn't Lambert's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I just don't know what you want from me, or what you're getting out of this."

Lambert felt like an absolute fool for being unable to understand it but so desperate to give it anyway.

Eskel was different from any authority figure he'd ever been expected to obey at the School of the Wolf. They were fair, or fair _enough_ anyhow, disciplining Lambert when he'd wore out their patience and made them well and truly angry. They'd used paddles, straps, belts, canes, and certainly the worst of them, switches on his naked skin, but they stopped when they had finished working out their anger on Lambert's flesh.

Lambert's father had been less fair, seeking to cause as much damage as he could by any means possible before he was too exhausted to lift either his fist or his boot or do anything but collapse in his great chair by the hearth.

But Eskel wasn't hitting him because was angry. There was no steam to let out blow by blow. And furthermore Eskel wasn't trying to beat him down or break him. Eskel was after something else entirely that Lambert could not possibly understand, which posed a problem because he desperately wanted to give whatever he could to be sure this relationship didn't end.

"I like getting to have this side of you." Eskel answered. "You'll let me lead you, and that you want to follow."

Lambert's mouth fell open and although he tried to say something impressive or intelligent. All he managed to do was offer, "I can do that for you." It was painless and harmless and yet seemed so much more vulnerable than anything he'd ever given someone before.

"Thank you." Eskel said for the third time, feeling the same significance as Lambert.

Then Eskel looked down at his hand and frowned, suddenly recalling that he had brought something and no longer had it in his hand. He looked around at the cleaned desks and shelves, sweeping easily over each open surface.

Lambert tapped one of the glass beakers and smirked, "Your tea is right here. I'll get your cup and then it ought to be ready for you to drink."


End file.
